


Dragon's blood

by ThreeMagpies



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A dream of dragons. Set after the end, Gen, Rated for some reference to canon violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 19:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19279786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeMagpies/pseuds/ThreeMagpies
Summary: A Game of thrones fic. A dream of dragons. I found myself wondering what happened to Drogon after he flew away with Daenarys, and what could maybe happen after that.





	Dragon's blood

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for having a look at this - my very first fic for GOT. It is very short, but it was one of those stories that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. There are some wonderful stories here and I've only had a chance to look at a few of them, I'm looking forward to reading more xx ThreeMagpies

Drogon flew far and fast, the rolling, icy lands below clear and vivid to his dragon’s eyes, the wind whistling cold over his wings and his burden light in his claws but so very, very heavy on his heart.

She had burned so brightly, who could not burn. Her desire like flames and ash, scattered now and gone. Drops of ruby blood falling like rain, still warm. Her white hair like mist, floating.

Only Drogon remained. Last child of the mother slain by one with the blood of dragons sleeping in his veins. 

Waiting to be woken.

He flew faster. The mountains growing closer. The eyrie nest.

Circling once, twice, three times, then diving down he screamed a challenge to the sky and far, far below, a child of the forest looked up, a blessing and a promise flying up from long, winter green fingers spread wide against clouds and the shadow of wings.

At the hidden, shallow bowl of dark, melted stone, he set her down, her body a white rune carved on glassy black. Then gentle with a dragon’s care, his claws pierced her white curves through and through, sending her dragon’s blood flowing in still hot and bright lava streams onto the rough jewelled shells of her children’s children. 

Later, he gathered them up, careful, taking the warm, living ovals into his mouth, the blood of dragons calling through snow and mountain.

Time to fly.  
…………………..

Jon, because after everything he still thought of himself as Jon Snow, a Stark in all but name, forged a path with sticks and a battle honed body through the deep snow towards a stand of winter dark trees and a camp for the night, breath rising in curls of steam at every step. 

Ghost moved silent beside him, a shadow weaving over rocks and white glare. 

A sound, a remembered distant stir and creak of danger made both pause while instinct froze flesh and bone, ready to hide or fight and Jon looked up, his heart leaping into a throat dry with emotions he couldn’t begin to name as the dragon swept overhead and circled round, graceful, deadly, beautiful. 

'Drogon?'

……………………….


End file.
